


A Different Path

by LateStarter58



Series: Sarah's Smutty Notebook [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 09:58:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LateStarter58/pseuds/LateStarter58
Summary: Another in my series about Loki visiting Midgard to, er, help women with their problems...





	A Different Path

I looked up, suddenly certain that someone was watching me. It was a familiar sensation (in recent times, anyway), but this time was different, somehow. I felt uneasy, but oddly certain that it was not my ‘admirer’. I scanned the crowd in the bar; no familiar faces at all, apart from the small group of friends I was with, and, to my relief, no sign of the man who had been making my life a misery for over two years either.

The police had been very nice. No, they agreed I had done nothing to encourage him. No, I didn’t know him before or after the one time that he had delivered a parcel to my workplace and I had signed for it. No, I had done all the right things and tried to make him stop, politely but firmly. But no; they could not do anything because all he was doing was sending me unwanted gifts and messages.  So I just had to put up with him. Unless he threatened me, that is.

It’s not as if I’m a looker. In the course of my scan I didn’t spot a single man looking at me, not one in the whole place, so why I caught that looney’s eye I have no idea. No, he isn’t a looney, I shouldn’t use that term, it’s pejorative and wrong, but until it happens to you it is impossible to understand just how threatening unwanted attention like this can feel. Nowhere was safe; home, work, online. He showed up everywhere, including on a few, very unnerving occasions, when I was out on the town. Fortunately I always go out in a group, that’s been my habit for years, but even so…

So why did I feel like this tonight? I couldn’t shake it, not even a third dry martini helped. We were getting quite loud, between us, Michelle, Elaine, Jane and me. We were all on our third or fourth cocktails (don’t judge, it was Friday, and it had been a pretty shitty week), and then I spotted him. He was up on the mezzanine, in the far corner where it narrows into a balcony. The pub was an old theatre in my parents’ day, and Mum told me she always used to like to sit in that part of the circle, looking down onto the stage. In between it was a church for a few years; I doubt the evangelicals would approve of what was happening there tonight!

In Mum’s favourite seat tonight was…well, who or what was he? Long, unusually, _unfashionably_ long dark hair, neatly brushed back, making an odd contrast with his expensive-looking suit and designer scarf. He looked exotic, European, _rich,_ completely out of place in a provincial English town pub full of drunken office workers and teachers. And, unlike every other male in the place, he was looking at me. Staring, and, although he was right across the room and up high, I could see, no - _feel_ his eyes on me.

I liked it.

He was gorgeous. Pale skin, contrasting strikingly with that black, inky hair. His face was sharply etched, almost elven-looking. Who was he? How did such a creature even end up in Ipswich, let alone latching onto me? I dragged my eyes away from his slightly amused stare to ask Jane what she thought, but when I tried to point him out to her, the seat was empty, just his glass on the table to testify he had even existed. I swept the mezzanine with my eyes for a sign of him, but there was none.

‘Shit.’

I didn’t bother to hide my disappointment from my mates. They knew what I’d been going through, and they also knew how long it had been since I’d had a man, even a one-night stand. I wasn’t exactly beating blokes off with a stick, even before my own private nutter started his campaign. Now I was too anxious and jumpy. A guy at work tried to talk to me in the coffee room one lunchtime and I leapt a mile in the air when he spoke. It doesn’t do much for your sex-life, having a stalker.

But then I felt that feeling again, only much more strongly, so much so that I felt goose pimples running up my arms and my back. I looked around again, and spotted him, over at the other end of the bar. But he wasn’t looking at me, despite my tingle. No, his eyes were fixed on something or someone by the door, behind me. I turned, following mystery-man’s gaze and saw… my stalker. He _was_ looking at me, by contrast, and when our eyes met for the split-second I couldn’t avoid it, his face broke into a grin. I shuddered as a wave of nausea swept over me.

Let me explain. The man isn’t repellent or anything; he’s quite nice-looking, if you like that type. Very short hair, crew-cut almost, bookish, but with tattoos. Well-built, I imagine he works out. Not my type _at all,_ and I felt not the slightest attraction, but he simply would not accept that. It started the day after he made the delivery at work. A card, then flowers, then chocolates, champagne; all the romantic clichés, except that we were not seeing each other. Several of my colleagues could not understand why I didn’t just go out with him, but they hadn’t read the notes. He spoke as if we were already an item, and about our future together. It was more than weird; it was frightening. I returned everything I could, but once stuff started turning up at my flat and the notes got more intense I went to the police.

But like I said, they couldn’t help. Or wouldn’t. Same result, either way.

I turned back and looked at the stranger; he was staring at Parsons (that’s his surname; I never use his forename, not even in my head). There was a look in his eyes, well, you’d think he hated him. It was frightening. I tried to puzzle it out. Did he know him? I nudged Jane again. This time when I pointed to the beautiful dark man he was still there and she whistled.

‘That’s the bloke? What’s he looking at?’

I pointed to Parsons.

‘Wow, that looks _personal_!’

‘I know. Interesting, isn’t it?’

I looked back at my new, more welcome admirer to see his eyes were back on me. Once again he had an amused expression. Now I was nearer I could see his eyes were green, and I could have sworn I could _smell_ him; trees, water, cold winter air… Ridiculous, it was a crowded pub, how could I? But still… I gulped down a mouthful of martini. I wanted him. I mean _really;_ I felt my knickers getting wet. As if he could read my thoughts, his cool, narrow, pale-as-snow face broke into a wicked grin. I felt a frisson of fear which ran down my spine, but as it reached my nether regions it turned into a feeling of excitement. That smile… it was sexy and scary and I wanted to find out what else he could do with that mouth.

I shook my head to clear it and realised my friends had stopped talking and were all looking from me to the man and back again, their mouths hanging open. Elaine leaned over and shouted above the loud music into my ear.

‘Go for it, girl! Jeez, he’s fucking gorgeous! Maybe if you-know-who sees you with someone else he’ll finally get the hint.’

‘Yeah, but… I mean, who is this guy?’

‘Only one way to find out!’  

Michelle had joined in and was shoving me in the direction of the place where he was standing. I decided they were right and began to work my way through the throng towards the other end of the bar. I glanced over my shoulder to see if Parsons was watching but he was glaring at the man, an odd look on his face. As I neared him, the beautiful stranger took his scarf off and pulled a stool in front of him. He gestured to me to sit. I did.

_‘May I buy you a drink, my dear?’_

His voice. Oh my god, his voice. Imagine being slowly lowered into vodka-flavoured chocolate and then having a hundred gorgeous men lick it off your naked body; that’s what his voice sounded like. Only better.

I could actually feel the moisture running down my thighs.

He smiled that smile again. As if he knew. Of course; he did.

He leaned over and whispered into my ear.

_‘One more drink, and then I’ll take you home and fuck you. How does that sound?’_

It was just as well I was sitting down. Now, like I said, I hadn’t been fucked in a while, but all the same I’m no push-over. I’m a twenty-first century woman, and I don’t believe in letting the man take control, at least not all the time. But then, this was a man like no other. In fact, he wasn’t a man at all, I suddenly knew.

He was a god.

He was Loki.

 

The noise and bustle of the pub faded away, and it felt as if we were alone. He was looking at me intently, and it occurred to me that he probably _could_ read my mind. The authorities kept a lid on discussions of what had happened with the aliens, in New York and London, but theories were flying around online of course. I’d read that Loki was in jail, back on his own world, but maybe he escaped or was released. Who knew, anyway? Apart from SHIELD or whatever they were called. And that all went tits up…

Not that any of that mattered to me then. All I could think about was fucking him.

We made our way to the door, past my friends who were all thumbs up and silly grins. I tried to ignore them. And then I remembered Parsons. I looked around but he wasn’t in sight. Loki had his hand on my arm and he tightened his grip slightly.

_‘You need not concern yourself with him any longer. I am going to… persuade him… to, er… find a different path.’_

I had no idea what that meant but I felt reassured, nonetheless. Having a god on your side is quite a comfort.

Out on the street, in the light drizzle that was making the streetlamps sparkle like Christmas decorations, I looked for Parsons again. There he was, over the other side of the street, standing in a doorway trying to look inconspicuous. Loki stopped and turned in that direction, gently pushing me so I was a little way from him.

Then he stood, feet far apart, hands by his sides, staring at Parsons. Just staring. Not a word passed his lips, and I was watching those lips carefully, believe me. And Parsons was still and silent too, but he looked scared. No, that’s not strong enough.

He looked terrified.

This went on for a while. I lost track of time, and all movement around us seemed to blur, as if we were in a different dimension. After I don’t know how long Loki smiled that smile and turned back to me.

_‘I believe we have plans, my dear.’_

I felt that tingle of fear mixed with lust again and off we went towards my flat, which was only a few streets away. I glanced back at Parsons. He hadn’t moved.

As we turned a corner near my street Loki stopped walking and as his arm was around my waist, I stopped too. He leaned down from his great height and kissed me. It was…how can I put this? It was like being transported into a different place. The damp of the English autumn was gone and I was sinking into green moss in a northern forest; I could hear the sound of rushing water, a cataract or a stretch of rapids. His lips were not just arousing me sexually (which they were, along with his tongue…but more of that later) no, my entire mind was carried away by his caresses. And this was just the first kiss.

It had been a while, but you don’t forget the important stuff. I opened my front door, invited Loki in (did it work like that with Norse gods? No idea, but I’d watched enough _Buffy_ not to take any risks) and didn’t waste any time divesting myself of my clothing. Not that there was much, just a jacket, a silk blouse and a very short skirt (the usual girls-night-out uniform). I stood before him in my undies, as the saying goes, ‘gagging for it’.

Loki shook his head sadly.

_‘Aren’t you afraid of me? After all, I am a god…’_

I knelt down. I got the impression he liked that.

‘Well maybe just a little afraid…’

I crawled along the shabby rug towards him. He looked out of place in my tiny, scruffy flat. He was dressed – still _fully_ -dressed I noticed with irritation – in haute couture and that did not match his surroundings. But I was beyond being embarrassed about my home; all I wanted was to see what he had inside his Armani trousers.

I wasn’t disappointed.

As I licked the end of his magnificent cock, I recalled vaguely an online forum where some people had been discussing Asgardian physiology. Well, if they needed any first –hand (and -mouth, and -cunt) evidence, I was going to be their woman.

Abruptly, Loki pulled himself out of my mouth.

_‘You will discuss this with no one, do you understand?’_

‘But Loki, all my friends saw us leave together, they’ll…’

_‘Of course, but you will tell no one **who. I. am**.Do you understand?’_

‘As you wish. Now, can I have that back please?’

I was looking longingly at his enormous erection, which was still right in front of me, bobbing slightly as he breathed heavily. Without any preamble he shoved it back in my mouth. I worked on him. I could not take it all in – it was, truly, fucking massive – but I did what I could, nearly choking a few times when he touched the back of my throat. He seemed to tire of my efforts after a while, and pulled out again, much to my disappointment. But I soon forgot that when he threw me (he tossed me like a toy) onto the sofa and, yanking my knickers off, ripping them in two, he licked his way up my thighs.

I writhed in anticipation and he grabbed my wrists and held them while he ran his tongue along my dripping folds.

_‘You are more than ready, I see my dear. What a naughty thing you are.’_

I just moaned in response. No use denying it.

He began to nibble and suck my clit and I began to shout. He released my arms and used his fingers to part me, then slid them in; first two, then three and finally added a fourth. I think I was screaming by this time. I’m not sure how many orgasms I had. They all began to blur into one long convulsion of pleasure. I was only just aware when he slid that amazing member inside me. I was so wet and so aroused that I accommodated its massive size without difficulty. But wow, it was something else. It filled me, I mean you might think your man has a big cock, but this one just hit EVERYWHERE. I had never had orgasms like it…

And he just seemed to keep on going, like a train, for hours. He would come, but not get soft, so off we would go again, and again, until I had to beg him to stop. I was already sure I wouldn’t be able to walk in the morning. How do they get any work done in Asgard? How do they conquer other worlds or whatever god-like stuff it is they do? I’d never get out of bed if I lived there.

Come to think of it, I’d never _be able_ to get up…

I looked at that pale, serious but still beautiful face. He seemed to be enjoying himself, anyway.

‘Please Loki, enough. I’m really sore.’

_‘Oh my dear, I apologise. I sometimes forget how sensitive Midgardian women are. It makes you easier to pleasure, but also easier to hurt.’_

I laughed. ‘So I’m not your first, then.’

I wasn’t that bothered, After all, this was Loki, the Norse fuck-machine. Of course I wasn’t the first woman he’d, well, _fucked_.

_‘No my dear. But you are one of the most…enthusiastic.’_

Well, if you really have got Parsons off my back, then I’ll let you fuck me blind.’

_‘I don’t think that will be necessary. But I will stay a little longer. Perhaps I can soothe that soreness.’_

I raised an eyebrow.

‘How so?’

‘ _I am VERY good with my tongue, you know.’_


End file.
